Film for the Soul

Emile Ardolino, 1990

As if Leonard Nimoy's prequel three years earlier, the divine Three Men and A Baby, wasn't enough, along came Emile Ardolino's inspired sequel, Three Men and a Little Lady (see what they did there? Genius), a film so deft and delicate, so refined and reserved that surely only a poet, no a sculptor, could have shaped this film any better. Starring three of Hollywood's biggest players, (seriously how did they manage to put together this star studded cast?) Tom Selleck (Peter), Ted Danson (Jack) and, wait for it, Steve Guttenberg (Michael), along with Nancy Travis (Sylvia), sporting an English accent so realistic it's as if she were born in Buckingham Palace, this surely goes down as one of the finest ensembles ever, well, assembled.

Moving the action on five years after the events of Three Men and a Baby, we now join little Mary (Robin Wiseman) her three father's and her mother living together as one big happy family in New York. Or so it seems on the surface, however Sylvia, Mary's mother, craves more stability and although there is enough electricity between her and Peter to light up Las Vegas, Peter can't bring himself to say he loves her. Believing that he would be stepping on Jack's toes (Mary's 'biological daddy' - is there a more loving reference to a father than that?) if he asks to marry Slyvia, he keeps his feelings hidden. Selleck's performance of restrained love goes down as one the greatest, his arching of the eyebrows only ever beaten by Roger Moore, his stumbling over words matching that of Hugh Grant. Beautiful.

In a comical, and eventually devastating, error of events Peter leaves it too late to say anything as Sylvia accepts a proposal of marriage from English theatre director, Edward (Christopher Cazenove), who shockingly wants Sylvia and Mary to stay in with him in England after they marry. Broken hearted and resigned to losing both Sylvia and Mary, our three bachelors try to recover their glory days by throwing one of their old 'infamous' parties; with hilarious results. After the debacle, our three men realise they can't live without their ladies and on learning of Edward's plans for Mary, sending her to a robotic, everyday English school, (typical Englishman, can't trust them) they decide to stop the marriage; Will Peter be able to tell Sylvia that he loves her in time? The tension is unbearable.

Three Men and a Little Lady comes into it's own when the action moves to England; surely their hasn't been a more realistic portrayal of English society in cinematic history? Ardolino wisely and astutely goes for realism, something seriously lacking in Britain's home spun directors such as Mike Leigh, Ken Loach and Shane Meadows, depicting an England that, finally, I recognise and identify. Awkward, repressed and bumbling, living in estates and castles, conniving (sometimes I can't even trust myself) and cold, depressing and stuck in the 19th century - no director has ever caught the England I know so clearly and with such clarity, I salute you Mr. Ardolino. We all do, thank you.

Probably the greatest sequel of all time, hell with that, probably the greatest film of all time, Three Men and a Little Lady delights through out. From it's effective and realistic portrayal of everyday family life to it's tear-jerking finale; is their anyone who doesn't cry at Peter's poetic declaration of love? "I even love her liver mousse". Words fail me how good this film actually is, so as a treat I've saved the best till last. If only Public Enemy had this way with words maybe they would have been as great, please bow to the pure genius that is, 'The Mary Rap'.


Originally posted on:Film for the Soul